SafeHaven
by Muzzled
Summary: Theron, the Grey Warden, journeys through the perilous Frostback Mountains along with Alistair and Leliana to search for Morrigan, the mother of his child. Still a work in progress.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a work of fiction that I've been writing for Dragon Age: Origins. For those who haven't played the game, be warned as there may be spoilers in here. Also, I have not played the Witch Hunt DLC for the game, to which I understand a lot about Morrigan and what happens to her is revealed. Think of this as a fun little story I just wrote for the sake of it after finishing the game.  
>I hope you enjoy it, and reviews are greatly appreciated.<br>_

* * *

><p><strong><span>SafeHaven<span>**

**Chapter 1**

The Frostback Mountains were dangerous. Only the boldest of adventurers traversed the snowtopped mountains and weathered the harsh conditions of the range. A traveller may occasionally bump into a dwarf loitering near the entrance to the underground city of Orzammar. Casteless and aimless. But for the most part, the mountains were empty save for a few packs of wolves and bears that would hunt nearby.

Three travellers roughed the mountains, climbing over a particularly tall ridge. From the sky, they would look like ants; dots on the ground. But they were warriors. Legends of Ferelden. They had fought and killed the Darkspawn, they had fended off the Blight. They had earnt the right to be called hero. A windy mountain was nothing compared to the hardships that they had faced together. Leliana, the red-haired religious rogue scouted ahead of the group. Her armour was covered in a fur overcoat to keep her warm in the freezing conditions. On her back was a crossbow with a quiver filled with arrows, and strapped to her thighs were two sheaths, each holding elegant but sharp daggers that had been bloodied and then cleaned enough times to have killed an entire army of Darkspawn.

A few yards behind her, slowly scaling the mountain face and the snow were two men. One human, and the other an elf. The elf went by the name Theron. A Grey Warden, people looked up to him as their saviour, their leader. He was instrumental in stopping The Blight. Without him, Ferelden would be under the rule of the Archdemon. He wore a similar fur to Leliana. But instead, had a large shield and sword strapped to his back. The snow dusted his dark long hair with pinches of white.

Near him was the man, even more recognizeable. Alistair. King Alistair to be exact. His controversial rise into royalty had left a bitter taste in many noblemen's mouths. But there was no denying that the King of the common man was indeed popular among the people. But he wasn't that accustom to sitting on his throne and watching life pass him by. He preferred to be out in the wilderness, adventuring with other travellers like Theron and Leliana.

"There is a cave ahead, about half a mile away," Leliana shouted back to her two companions as she peered over the ridge, spying an entrance to some dark caverns, "it would be a good plae to make a camp!"

Rather than waste energy on shouting back, Theron simply smiled and nodded back. It had been a long couple of days. While he didn't like showing weakness or exhaustion to his friends, he was very much looking forward to a full meal and a good night's sleep for a change. Leliana climbed ahead out of earshot of the two Grey Wardens. It began to snow lightly, as a white powder sprinkled the mountains.

"I hate to say it, but I'm starting to miss the days of fighting Darkspawn," Alistair wheezed, "at least in those battles, it was on flat ground. Not up a gigantic mountain covered in snow and ice."

"You're the sissiest king I've ever met," Theron teased.

"And how many kings have you met exactly?"

"Okay, just you and Cailan. But he never complained about mountains or the weather," Theron replied.

"Ouch, that was cheap," Alistair said dryly.

"It was, I'm sorry," an awkward pause followed their trek for a moment before breaking it again, "but you're the one still alive so I guess you have the last laugh."

"True. But at least Cailan died for a worthy cause, fending off the Darkspawn and protecting his kingdom," Alistair said, his head held up high.

Theron paused, "you don't think being out here, searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes is a worthy cause?"

Alistair turned to Theron, rolling his eyes, "I might have been stupid enough to agree to coming out here but that doesn't mean I'm a complete nonce. I know why we're out here."

The two men clambered up over rocks and stones, keeping a firm grip so as not to slip back down the mountain side. Theron remained silent, not answering his king.

"You're looking for her aren't you?"

"No idea what you're talking about. I think the lack of oxygen up here is messing with your head Alistair."

"Oh shut up, we're not up here looking for a dead woman in a vase, we're on a witch hunt aren't we?"

"So what if I am looking for her? She saved my life and helped us kill the Archdemon. I just thought a trip to the Frostback Mountains was in order so we could look for Andraste's Ashes and if Morrigan happens be around here then what's the harm in saying hi?" Theron reasoned as he puffed, climbing up to the ridge. It felt like they had been climbing for weeks, they were both exhausted.

"Oh I see, just a nice leisurely trip to the mountains to look for a dead god's ashes and the wicked witch of the wilds hey?" Alistair both jested and prodded for information.

"So what if I am looking for her? There's nothing wrong with that," Theron defended himself.

The two men crawled further higher before finally reaching the top of the ridge. They breathed heavily, sighing relief of finally making it to the top. Cold clouds exhaled from their mouths as they both wiped the sweat from their brow. In the distance, they saw a field of white. Snow beat down on a long rocky slope, and on the other side was a dark hole. A small entrance in the side of the mountain. It would be their camp for the night.

"Maybe not, but what about her?" Alistair asked. He nodded ahead of them several yards. The red haired Leliana waded through snow, leading the way towards the cave, completely oblivious to Alistair and Theron's conversation.

"What about her? She's good to have on these sorts of trips, you've seen her fight. I'd have been stupid not to let Leliana come along."

"Oh don't be so cold, don't talk about her as if she's a useful tool," Alistair bit back as they slid over the ridgetop and into a thick pillow of snow below, "I somehow doubt that she would have been so enthusiastic about coming if she knew you were looking for Morrigan."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind, Morrigan was instrumental in defeating The Blight. Besides, we're primarily here to find the ashes, and obviously Leliana wouldn't turn that chance up," Theron replied.

"No, I'm sure she's happy about finding the ashes. But one has to wonder how excited she'd be if she really knew you were searching for Morrigan. You know, the woman you shared a bed with on numerous occasions and fathered a demonic love child with."

Theron rolled his eyes and groaned. He was tired of Alistair's constant curiosity and intervening. He was suddenly remembering why he bugged him so much during The Blight. But in all honesty, he knew that Alistair was right. Leliana would probably have left the mountain and gone home straight away had she known that they were searching for Morrigan up there. In response to Alistair's prodding, Theron simply picked up a handful of snow, rounded it into a ball and hurled it in the king's face. Alistair yelled, wiping the snow from his face.

"You know if you pulled that sort of thing in Denerim, you'd have a dozen guards in your face ready to chop your head off right about now," Alistair kidded, but there was some truth to his teasing. It would often slip the Warden's mind that Alistair, the clumsy, awkward, indecisive follower that hung around him for so many years was actually the king of all of Ferelden.

The two laughed it off and continued onward, following in Leliana's distant footsteps. But Theron's mind did wander. What would Leliana do if she found out the true purpose of their trip into the mountains? And if they actually did find Morrigan, what would he even say to her?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
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They were all thankful for being undercover. A mighty blizzard rained down outside the cave, a harsh wind tore down the side of the mountain. They were a little worried that it may trigger an avalanche. But they put those fears out of their minds by creating a small campfire with what they could find.

The cave was small, dark and cold. It didn't go too deep into the mountain. But that helped stave off a certain paranoia that Theron had about the Darkspawn. He had thought that since the Frostback Mountains were home to Orzammar and the Deep Roads, that there may be Darkspawn under the mountains. In the caves. Hiding and retreating. Plotting their revenge. Scheming another Blight.

"More sausage Theron?" Leliana asked, snapping Theron out of his haze. He shook his head, looking down at the pathetic excuse for a campfire they were able to conjure up. The flames crackled and sizzled as Alistair helped himself to another serving of the hunks of meat that were burning in the pan over the fire.

He laid back with his blanket and coat covering him, he still shivered. The Frostback Mountains were notorious for their extreme conditions, only the most hardened explorers traversed the range. And still, most of them died.

"How far from Haven do you expect we are?" Leliana asked over the roaring winds outside and crackle of the fire inside.

"Another day or two yet I think," Theron responded, "although I doubt we'll find anything there. The ashes went missing quite some months ago."

Leliana threw a thick fur blanket over herself as she leaned against the cavewall, opposite Theron, "What do you suppose happened to them?"

"Probably thieves Leliana," Alistair chimed in, his mouth half full with sausage, "maybe grave robbers who thought they'd be able to sell the urn."

"Or maybe followers of the Cult of Andraste. There could have been a few remnants left behind in Haven who decided to hide the urn in case we came back, or in case we told people who would want to come and put the urn in a church or a museum of some sorts," Theron added.

The three sat in silence for a moment pondering different theories before Leliana spoke up again, "This will sound a little crazy, but a friend of mine from the Chantry that I spoke with told me that he believed the urn was taken by The Maker. That he deemed us unworthy of having Andraste's Ashes. I don't fully believe it myself, but at the same time, who is to say that he didn't?"

"I love The Maker as much as the next king, Leliana," Alistair added cautiously, not wanting to offend her, "but I highly doubt he came down from off his cloud and took it out of spite."

"Perhaps he didn't himself, but that is not to say he still didn't have it removed from our land. Ferelden has seen too many wars to count. It doesn't need another one over the Sacred Ashes," Leliana replied.

The three spoke occasionally throughout the night. They slept huddled around the fire with layers of blankets and clothing covering them to keep them warm. Outside, the wind howled relentlessly. It was a sound they gradually got used to as they each drifted off to sleep one-by-one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The fire was dead, only a few streams of smoke zig-zagged from the pieces of burnt wood. Leliana and Alistair slept fastly in two huddled heaps of blankets, both of them still asleep. But Theron was now awake. He had been roused from his sleep by an uncomfortable feeling. He felt as though he was being watched.

Theron opened his heavy eyes, pulling himself out of his slumber and looking around the dark and cold cave. It was quiet, but the wind still rushed passed the cave outside, albeit somewhat calmer than the night before. He looked through the cave entrance, seeing mostly a dark early morning sky outside. The moon vaguely lighting the mountainside. The source of his discomfort was outside. Eyes watching him from a distance. Intent and piercing. Theron gripped his sword and quietly crept out of the cave, careful not to wake Alistair or Leliana.

The figure stood statue-like, gazing into the cave. Theron thought he may be seeing things. The snow and the cold could be playing tricks on him. But what if it were Darkspawn, or a casteless dwarf that may be seeking to take their shelter. He left the cave with his sword drawn.

The figure raised its head as the Grey Warden drew nearer. He saw its slim physique and noted its robes and hair blowing in the wind.

"... Morrigan?" he whispered under his breath. He couldn't be sure.

The figure stayed still and quiet for a moment. Then a horrible feeling fell over Theron, dread and sickness. His stomach felt aflame like a fire was growing inside him, burning him. His head felt heavy as iron and his throat felt clogged. He began to cough and gag, unable to breathe. He wanted to throw up everything he had in him but his throat wouldn't let him. He dropped to his knees, his sword falling beside him in the snow. The dark figure stood before him, its eyes began to glow a bright red.

"I told you Warden, I warned you," a female voice said, "I told you not to follow me. Never follow me. You had your chance."

Fire burnt in her eyes as Theron tried to utter out words, whether to try to reason with her or to scream for help, it didn't matter. He couldn't do a thing. Morrigan, the daughter of Flemeth – Witch of the Wilds, stood before her. Enraged and violent. Her hands stretched outforth, blue electricity sparked in her hands. Shining and glowing. In a second, Theron was writhing on the ground under a hail of electricity, shaking and convulsing. He felt himself lose control as he drew near death, all he could feel was pain and all he could hear was Morrigan.

"Never follow me! I warned you! You promised you wouldn't!"

"Morrigan!" Theron screamed as he darted out of his sleep, sweat on his brow and his heart beating out of his chest. He was in the cave and Morrigan was nowhere in sight. He sat and looked around the cave in a panic, fearing he would see a witch, a demon. But instead, he saw Leliana.

"Morrigan?" she asked, her eyebrow cocked, "having pleasant dreams then I see."

Theron looked around the cave, the sun shone from the outside, lighting up the dull cavern. Leliana stood before her, looking quizzingly at him. Alistair was outside getting his barings.

"More like a nightmare," Theron joked as silence fell on them. Leliana looked on in thought, memories flowing through her mind of The Blight and all the adventures they had all shared as a group along with Oghren, Sten, Wynne and Morrigan. Morrigan... she hated her. Living with The Chantry for so long, Leliana often rejected thoughts of hatred and anger, but if there was one person she truly never wanted to see again, it was Morrigan.

The daughter of Flemeth had enraged her at every turn, demeaning her and her beliefs, shooting her down at every opportunity. And the way she had toyed with Theron only increased her hatred. Just hearing her companion wake up witth Morrigan's name on his tongue sent shivers down her spine.

"Do you still think about her?" Leliana asked as Theron pulled himself up to his feet.

"Sometimes," he hated keeping the truth from her, but he felt even worse about lying directly to her, "but not all good things."

"I hope not," as the words left her mouth, Leliana already regretted them, feeling as though she were putting Theron in an awkward position. They stopped the conversation and kicked some snow over the campfire before moving outside to join Alistair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The mountains were quiet for a change. While gusts of wind still blew across the chasms and snow still fell, it was an eerily peaceful day. Alistair led the way for a change, but kept to a much slower pace than Leliana normally did.

The rest of the day, Theron thought of his dream. He wondered how Morrigan would react in reality to seeing him. With anger and rage like in his dream? Or perhaps she would be overjoyed, excited that her love for a certain time had seeked her out. He thought back to their last night together. Before the Archdemon fell and before Morrigan fled.

"Never follow me," she had said. The room was cosy, warm and private. But her words were cold and final. Her offer was bitter sweet, end The Blight, no one has to die. No sacrifice must be made. But the Grey Warden was to father a child. And he would never see it, the child or the mother. It was a hard choice. But the path he walked was full of them. And the hard choice was usually the right choice.

"Do not look for me," she had reminded me, "do not seek me out."

He told her he wouldn't. He would honour his end of the bargain. He would allow her to grant him one last favour – to save the life of a Grey Warden – for that is why she was there. That is why Flemeth allowed her to be there. But the price was high. Still, Theron said yes. And their bitter sweet night continued until morning, when it was time to face The Blight.

"Darkspawn!" Alistair's shouting roused Theron from his daydreaming. All of a sudden he was back in reality, snow, cold and fear. He felt the adrenaline starting to pump as he drew his sword and Leliana took out her crossbow, loaded with a silver-tipped arrow. Alistair already had his sword in hand.

Running down a mountain slope only a few yards ahead of them were darkspawn. Stragglers of The Blight. They lived in the mountains, occasionally venturing out to explore, to find food. The three travellers readied themselves for combat. Just like old times. With his shield in front of him, Theron charged ahead of Alistair, ready to tackle the monsters from head on.

Dark burnt skin, scars and marks covered their bodies. Blood and vile oozed from their mouths as their eyes grew a hot fiery red. Rusted iron and steel clanged as they drew their weapons. There were five of them, one of them let out a warcry, a roar that echoed down the mountain.

"Attack!" Alistair shouted, his leadership experience coming out.

Theron engaged the first darkspawn, a hurlock, in a sword fight. He blocked the monster's advances with his shoulder as the dark steel bounced off of him. Alistair began fending more off, his longsword proving stronger than the darkspawn's. Meanwhile, Leliana stood several paces behind them, firing precise shots into the battle.

Theron knocked over the hurlock with his shield and stabbed it in the chest while it lay on the ground. Thick blood oozed out into the snow, staining the mountain. Behind him, a genlock crept up on him, short, stout but armed to the teeth and bloodthirsty. Leliana didn't hesitate, firing a bolt into the darkspawn's neck, killing it instantly.

Alistair and Theron attacked engaged two more of the attackers. Blocking and parrying. With one swift swipe, Theron had beheaded one of the hurlocks, which Alistair quickly followed up by impaling a second on his sword.

Behind Leliana, the last remaining one crept up on her, dagger in hand, it moved to stab her in the back. But she heard snow shuffling behind her. With great speed, she spun around and smashed his crossbow across the genlock assassin's face before firing a bolt into its heart.

The battle was over, and they had survived. The three of them surveyed the damage, the dead darkspawn and the tainted blood that covered the snow. It brought back not-so-fond memories.

"I think we should be a little more careful for the rest of our walk," Alistair suggested.

"Agreed," both Theron and Leliana nodded.

They sheathed their weapons and let out a sigh of relief. But their relief was short-lived. A rumbling crossed the ground. The sound of thumping shook the snow beneath them.

"Earthquake? Avalanche?" Alistair asked in a panic, trying to balance himself.

"I don't think so," Leliana said.

A roar was let out that chilled all three of them to the bone. They turned to see what it was. A monster. A behemoth. An ogre. At least twelve-feet tall and covered in muscle and the blood of previous victims. Its giant antler-like horns twisted towards the sky as it charged down the slope towards the three of them. Before any of them could even react, it had already reached them, tackling Leliana into the snow covered rocks on the mountain slope. The fight was dangerous, only a few feet away was the mountain edge. A cliff. A straight three-hundred metre drop to the rocks and ground below. One slip would be the end.

Theron and Alistair reacted quickly jumping on the back of the ogre, trying to pry it off of their friend. But it simply shook them off like they were fleas. It snarled, spit and blood sprayed from its serrated teeth.

"I really hate these things," Alistair said under his breath as the two of them got back to their feet.

The ogre picked up Leliana, its gigantic hand wrapping around her. Before either Theron or Alistair could do anything, the ogre hurled her into the ground like a rag doll. The red-haired rogue rolled over into a bloody and unconscious mess. Alistair ran to her side as Theron attacked the ogre. He let out a scream, throwing his shield and sword on the ground, he leapt at the monster with all of his strength and speed. His leverage pushed the ogre back, sending it toppling backwards over the edge of the cliff. Alistair gasped, watching the Grey Warden stumble over along with the monster. They heard a roar as the behemoth fell through the air towards its death.

Alistair left Leliana's side, running over the edge of the cliff. He looked down to see the Grey Warden clinging on to the side of the cliff. A weird sick smile covered his face, it disturbed Alistair to see as he reached his arm down, offering Theron a hand.

"Is Leliana okay?" he asked as he heaved himself up onto the mountain, careful not to slip in the snow.

"Hard to say, she's unconscious but she's breathing, so I guess that's a positive," Alistair replied as they rushed back over to Leliana, who hadn't moved since being thrown by the ogre. They knelt by her and tended to her, revived her.

The wind seemed harsher in these conditions, as they were reminded of how quickly circumstances could change. A hike through the mountains could quickly turn into a violent battle for survival with a horde of monsters. People down below in Denerim acted as though peace had come. They didn't have to worry about anything any more. They were free to mind their own business again and not fear a storm on the horizon. No longer did The Blight pose a threat to them. But Ferelden's champions knew better. The King knew better. The Grey Warden knew better. He had experienced the truth. The darkspawn weren't dead. They hadn't been obliterated. One Archdemon had been killed. That didn't mean that the entire darkspawn race had been wiped from existence. They were still a threat. The death of the Archdemon at Denerim merely won a battle, but the war still waged on. And Theron knew that below them, amongst the rock and the stone in The Deep Roads, the darkspawn were readying themselves for another Blight.

Theron leaned on a rock, looking off into the distance. He could see the birds in the blue sky, the sun shining down upon them. It felt peaceful. But it was deceptive. He turned and looked at Leliana breathing but not moving. Alistair checked her pulse and her limbs for injuries.

"Her leg is broken," he said coldly, without his usual jesting tone, "and it looks like her skull is cracked."

"Will she live?" Theron asked, moving over to Alistairwho leant over Leliana.

"I think so. I can stop the bleeding but we have to get her off the mountain as soon as possible."

Theron nodded. He hated himself for how he was reacting on the inside. He hated himself for letting the darkspawn hurt one of his own so badly. And he also hated himself for being angry at Leliana. They would have to abort the entire mission, leave the mountain. He may never see Morrigan again, and he may never meet his child. And for that, he hated Leliana. But he would never say it though.

"How do we get her off the mountain? We can't just simply carry her down. Have any ideas?" Theron asked.

"Uh... I hadn't tought that far yet," he paused in thought, looking at Leliana's broken leg. He wondered how badly hurt she was, she could be far worse than he knew, he was a King, not a doctor, "One of us could leave the mountain now and go and get help. Maybe head to Orzammar and get Harrowmont to send help. He does sort of owe us."

"That he does, but I don't see him sending some of his doctors up to the surface to help a girl from the Chantry. He might give us supplies and maybe a stretcher to help carry her down, but Orzammar is at least another two days. That's with very little rest, few stops and if its just one of us at a very brisk pace."

Alistair sighed, "Well what else do you suggest then? Perhaps we can fashion a toboggan out of your shield and use it to slide her down the mountain side?"

Theron rolled his eyes, "Perhaps you can shut up for a second. Haven can't be too far from here. There might be medical supplies there, maybe even someone who can help us. I can probably go and get there within the hour if I leave now."

Alistair thought about it for a moment. He remembered Haven. The Cultists, the death and deception that they covered the village in. Haven used to be a secret village, not on any maps, that was until they had discovered it, along with the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He didn't know what would be there. Perhaps it was a ghost town, or perhaps more Cultists had settled there. But it was realistically, their only chance.

"Go now, I'll take care of her. If you're not back by nightfall, then, well... I'll wait a little longer."

Theron cracked a smile and nodded before picking up his gear again and heading north. He turned and glanced one last look at Alistair and Leliana before climbing over a ledge and disappearing from sight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Haven was a small village, cold and empty. At one point it was filled with cult-followers. Obsessive cultists following Andraste mindlessly, killing anyone who came asking questions. But now it was a ghost town. Occasionally seeing visitors and odd travellers through the mountains. But no one had settled into the town since the Cultists were forced out.

Theron moved up the snow covered track into the clearing where the village sat. He remembered his last trip to the town, being quizzed by a guard and nearly kicked out then and there. But it was different here this time, it was just empty. Gusts of wind and snow kicked through the deserted streets. Many homes had broken windows and doors that had been broken and never fixed. Haven gave off an eerie feeling.

Theron wasn't sure what he would be looking for. He had half hoped he would find people there that could help him, but he was also half glad that the place was empty. Perhaps he would be able to find some medical supplies left over. At the very least, he had hoped to leave with something that he could carry Leliana on and put her leg into a splint. He began going door-to-door anxiously, his hand never far from his sword, he searched homes, buildings and stores, scavenging for supplies.

Sunlight shined down on her glazed over eyes as the white mountain side glared the blinding light in all directions. The crowing of birds above awoke the red-haired woman. She had dreamed of them. Birds everywhere, carrying her to safety. Now she could see a blur of the sun and birds in the afternoon sky. Vultures circling above. Then she saw Alistair's face.

"You're awake! Are you okay? Don't try to move," he blurted out as she tried to regain her composure.

"What... what happened? Where are we? Are we in Lothering?" she asked in a haze, moving her arms up slowly to rub her eyes.

"No, we're not unfortunately. We're uh, well, we're in the mountains still. And we were attacked. You might not remember straight away," Alistair explained, "but it was darkspawn. An ogre got you, he threw you a good fifteen-feet or so. You have a broken leg and a concussion so don't try to move."

Going against Alistair's advice she attempted to stand up, but as she put the slightest bit of weight on her left leg, she let out a scream of pain that echoed down the slopes.

"I told you not to move," Alistair rolled his eyes, "lean back and relax. It's all we can do for now."

"Where is.. where is Theron?" she asked, eyes groggy.

"He's scouted ahead to Haven, he's going to try and get help, then we'll get off of this rock."

"But... the ashes... did we find the ashes?"

Alistair smiled, he had almost forgotten about the ashes in the excitement of battle, "No, not yet. I don't think we will, at least not on this adventure. Maybe next time."

He gave her some water and a piece of bread to keep her strength up, then covered her in his blanket to keep her warm as they both waited for Theron together.

"Hello? Is there anybody here?" the Warden shouted in the centre of the town against his better judgment. He had no luck searching the homes, only finding some rotten fruit and dirty books. Nothing that could help Leliana. He had found a few beds that he could cut up and fashion into a stretcher. But he wanted to find something to help her with the pain.

"Anybody at all? I need medical help! I have coin to pay with!" A door flung shut up a hill nearby. Theron looked up, it was a church. At least it looked like it might have been one. The rooftop arched into the sky with a giant wooden cross hanging from it. The windows were boarded up and the large thick wooden door was now shut.

He trekked up the hill, his sword in hand. He had thought of walking up unarmed to show that he meant no harm. But given the circumstances of his previous time spent in Haven, he would rather take his chances with the sword. He rapped on the door.

"Hello?" he asked to no response, "my name is Theron. I am a Grey Warden and I am on official business here with two companions. One of them is injured and requires medical assistance. If there is anyone in there that can help, I would be greatly appreciative."

He stared at the closed door. There was no reply.

"Ten sovereigns are in it for whoever opens this door to so much as speak to me," he added in vain, "that's ten gold pieces. Twice that if you can help my companion."

He waited a little while longer, then sighed. Like talking to a brick wall.

"I don't mean any harm, but you leave me no other choice," Theron's last ultimatum. He stood back and waited, hoping for the door to swing open. But it didn't. It remained shut.

Tired of his conversation with the wooden door, he took a step back before pushing his foot forward with great force, kicking the door down. The thick wooden church door fell to the ground in a clatter, the sound echoing throughout the giant church hall. Dust rose and the evening glare poured into the church. Theron couldn't see a thing. He stepped inside blindly, his sword leading the way. He still did not see any figures moving in the heap of dust. Perhaps he was seeing things. Maybe he didn't see anyone run into the church. That was until he heard a voice. A woman's voice. Calm, assertive, sarcastic and familiar.

"You do realise that the door was unlocked."

Theron looked up, squinting as the dust settled. He saw her before him. Morrigan standing alone at the church altar. Wearing dark purple robes and with a crooked staff in her hand. She hadn't changed a bit.

Millions of words raced through Theron's mind, millions of questions, thoughts, things that he just wanted to say to her, instead all he could say was, "Why didn't you open the door?"

Morrigan rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh, "If you didn't understand what I said to you the last time we spoke, then there's no point in trying to explain it to you this time. I don't want to be found. I don't want to be followed."

Theron stood there in his armour, sword hanging in one hand and a blank expression on his face.

"Although I'm starting to think I should have told you to follow me and never let me go, given how you always only ever seem to do the exact opposite anyone tells you to do."

Anger took Theron over, "Of course I was going to follow you. You expected to travel with me for so long, for us to spend so much time together, then to carry my child but not for me to want to come and at least talk to you once more?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I expected," she replied in that familiar pompous tone, "I spared your life. I made it so that a Grey Warden did not have to die. Not to mention the countless times I saved your sorry soul during The Blight."

"What about what I did for you? What about all the times I saved you? Or how about that time I went and killed the dragon of a mother of yours so she wouldn't try to possess you and take your soul? Or did that just slip your mind?"

"Didn't I thank you enough for killing my mother? How horribly rude of me. No wonder you travelled all the way through the mountains to see me," she said sarcastically, "now who in your party is injured? Did Oghren have an overdose of rum or did the Antivan Crows finally get to Zevran?"

"No, it's Leliana. We were attacked by darkspawn a few miles back. Her leg is broken and we don't have any supplies. So I came here hoping to find-"

"Me?" Morrigan interrupted, "This would be quite lucky of you. Being able to find me without having to deal with your little religious zealot lady friend needing to know about it. I assume she doesn't know you're here to see me?"

Theron remained quiet, unsure of how to answer.

"I thought as much. There's not much else up in these mountains besides Orzammar and Haven. Orzammar is quite a long ways away, I doubt you're here for that. So I would assume you've told her that you're coming up here to track down the urn, am I right?"

Again, Theron stayed quiet, just rollin his eyes.

"Ah I knew it. Those Chantry girls, so easily led, just like sheep. Who else is with you? Did you pry Alistair away from his throne to come up here too?"

"Hey I think I'm entitled to ask some questions here," Theron avoided her questionning.

"I'll take that as a yes," Morrigan replied with a smirk, "Ask your questions then."

Theron stood there, he looked around the church. He saw the boarded up leadlighted windows, the ancient wooden pews and the crosses, "Why are you here? A church is the last place I thought I would find you."

"Which is exactly why I am here. People would assume to find me at some kind of demonic ritual or haunted house, not inside a church. I am here for the time being, to be left alone. Which clearly, I failed at as you just kicked down my door and started probing me with questions."

"You mean you've been here this whole time? Since the end of The Blight, you've just been hiding out in a church in Haven?" Theron asked with an eyebrow cocked.

"Don't be stupid, I've only been here for a few weeks. Which I'm sure was long enough for witnesses to spread word down to Denerim that a witch was seen up here, in which time you launched your search party... Correct?"

"Yes. Now where did you go before here? Why did you even leave in the first place? And where is my child?"

Morrigan sighed, she sat down on the concrete step of the altar then ran her hands through her hair, "Take a seat then, make yourself comfortable. I wouldn't be a very gracious host if I didn't offer you a pew now did I?"

Theron reluctantly sat in one of the pews in front of Morrigan, "What happened Morrigan? Tell me."

"You don't have a child," Morrigan looked up at Theron, her face motionless and her eyes as cold as the concrete floor.

"What? What do you mean? But, but, you told me... what are you playing at Morrigan?" Theron demanded answers.

"Well, you did for a short time. You had a son. A little boy."

"And where is he now? What have you done to him?" Theron's heart pounded in his chest. The entire time he had been searching for Morrigan, he had expected to find him with his child. That was a lot of what drove him into searching for her. A search for his own child. Now he wanted answers, he demanded them.

"He's dead. I killed him."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Theron's hands shook, his eyes opened wide both with shock and anger. His heart raced and his mouth opened and words, questions and curses all came falling out. Before he knew it, he was standing over Morrigan with his sword in his hand, squeezing the hilt as he shouted accusations and questions at the witch. Had she been any other person, she would have been cowering in fear of her life. But instead, she just shot a blank stare and subtley rolled her eyes at her former lover's predictable reaction.

"If you'll calm down with your macho 'honourable elf' act, I can give you some answers," she simply replied, standing back up, "now follow me, unless you're that intent on killing me right now."

Theron sighed angrily, he sheathed his sword and reluctantly followed Morrigan. The two walked back through a door off to the side of the main hall that led into a smaller room that was probaby once an office to a clergimen. It was now a mess of papers and soot. A small fireplace in the corner of the room kept the office moderately warm compared to the ice cold snow outside. The small room had an old broken wooden desk and an unstable wooden chair with cobwebs hanging off of it. In the corner was a small matress that looked as though it had seen a lot of use over the years. The matress did not have any frame underneath it, it was just a mat on the floor essentially.

"Welcome to my humble abode kind Warden. Over here is my study," she pointed to the small broken desk, and then motioned towards the fireplace, "that's my kitchen where I do all of my gourmet style cooking. And over there is the master bedroom."

Theron looked at the dump of a room, and all of a sudden his life on the road didn't seem so bad. Morrigan sat on the matress in the corner, leaning against the wall as she motioned her guest to take a seat. He did, but was careful not to have the old frail chair break under his weight.

"It's not much, but it is home. I suppose some people might view it as a slight step up from living in the Korcari Wilds all those years."

"Morrigan... Answers. Now. I need to know. What did you do?" Theron cut her off.

"Fine, lets get straight into it then. Our son. He's dead. I killed him because he was too dangerous to be left alive."

"What do you mean too dangerous? He was a child!"

"Let me finish," Morrigan snapped, "If you interrupt me at every turn then you'll never get any answers."

Theron forced himself to calm down and tried to relax into the uncomfortable chair.

"When we conceived him, the Archdemon's soul took possession of him. The child I carried. It was strong, I knew so even before I gave birth to it. It had both of our traits, your strength, power, ability as a Grey Warden, my cunning and skill and power as well, a witch. You have to understand, this child, this boy, was the grandson of The Witch of the Wilds. Not only did it inherit both of our powers, but its life force, its soul and spirit belonged to the Archdemon. Not you, not I, and not himself. While he was a unique being like anyone else, he was completely dominated and controlled by the Archdemon. And combine that with the blood that runs through his and my vains, the blood of Flemeth... well, he would have been the most powerful being in Ferelden."

"So you should have raised him better, taught him to control his power. I thought that's what you were going to do..." Theron added.

"That had been my intention at one stage. But I never really knew what would happen. If I would be able to control him or not. I didn't know how human he would even be. Would I be giving birth to a child or a monster? I never knew. It was all a gamble," her voice turned to a stern harsh voice, "a gamble that _I_ took to spare _your_ life. No Grey Warden died that day in Denerim. Not you, not Riordan and not Alistaire."

"So... what... you gave birth to our son and he turned out to be a monster?" Theron asked quietly.

"No, not exactly. There is more to it," Morrigan added as she stood up, "a lot more. Make yourself comfortable, it's quite a story."

The sky was turning a bright orange as the sun reflected off the horizon. And on the mountain top, Leliana laid wrapped in blankets and coats to keep herself warm. Her head was bandaged and her leg lay straight to avoid doing any further damage to it. All of her equipment, her weapons included, were laid out in a pile next to her. Alistaire stood nearby, his sword never far from reach in case of another darkspawn attack.

"He's been gone a while, hasn't he Alistaire?" Leliana asked, her eyes fixed on the orange sky.

"Yes, he has. It worries me," he replied.

"Did you want to go after him? What if he's in trouble?"

"No, he can handle himself. Besides, I can't leave you in this condition," he replied, moving nearby to Leliana. He observed the area and the lowering sun. In the sky, he felt a wetness on the back of his neck as a soft sprinkle of rain and snow began to tap on his shoulders. Alistaire sighed. Before they knew it, the orange sky in the distance began to turn grey as storm clouds formed above them.

"If it's not darkspawn then its a bloody snow storm. It's always something with this place," Alistaire said in frustration.

Snow began to fall, lightly at first. It looked beautiful, like something on a post card, the snow powdered the mountain moreover. But as it became heavier, it became more dangerous.

"Perhaps the storm will pass over," Leliana suggested enthusiastically.

"We don't have that kind of luck," Alistaire replied. He looked further up the mountain a small trek away, it looked as though there were another cave. A small dark opening in the mountainside. Maybe a little bit bigger than the cave they spent their previous night in.

"We're going to need shelter for tonight Leliana. I can see a cave, it's only a small hike from here. I'm going to have to carry you up to it," he paused.

Leliana considered it for a moment, as much as it would hurt her leg, she knew it was better to be undercover than out in a potential blizzard, "Okay, lets do it. Don't worry about my leg, I can make it."

"That's not what I'm worried about so much... I'm going to have to go into the cave first, make sure we're not walking into some kind of darkspawn hideout. That could have been where that attack earlier came from," Alistaire added, "I need you stay here, keep covered up and wait for me. I'll be back as soon as I can. It's best that the cave be cleared out now as opposed to us walking into a trap unprepared."

Leliana nodded her head. She didn't like the idea of it. She wasn't worried about herself as much as she was Alistaire. The more she thought of it, the more logical the idea was that the darkspawn could be in the cave. They could well be watching them then and there, waiting for nightfall to strike, and Alistaire may be walking straight into a trap. But nonetheless, she watched him walk up the slope with his sword at the ready as he headed for the cave. She tried not to, but she thought that this might be the last time she would see him alive.


End file.
